


gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

by imperialgolds (daholdi)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Forbidden Love, Hunter!Annabeth, ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daholdi/pseuds/imperialgolds
Summary: It doesn’t surprise Annabeth when the Hunters come to camp later that fall, as the trees bleed red and orange and yellow. It doesn’t surprise Annabeth when she kneels before the Goddess Artemis and says the sacred words to pledge herself to the Hunt for eternity. It doesn't surprise Annabeth when she meets Percy Jackson. However, it surprises Annabeth when she falls for him and he feels the same.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

There’s nothing left for Annabeth at Camp Half Blood and she’s all too aware. She and her father haven’t talked in years, not since she ran away that dark night in her pajamas with tears in her eyes. Her father sends letters, but Annabeth sees his cramped handwriting on the envelope and feels nothing but cold rage. She returns every single one to Virginia. Argus stopped giving them to her; she hasn’t gotten one in months even though she knows that her father still sends them. He was stubborn like that, that’s what he said Mom saw in him. 

And its not she has friends either. Luke is too preoccupied with his latest fling (currently a dark-skinned daughter of Apollo with shiny black hair) to care about a ten-year-old. He had always promised Annabeth that it would be the two of them, that he would always be there for her. But Luke grew up and his mischievous looks turned into rakish charm and now it seems every person at Camp wants a piece of him. But not of Annabeth, she’s the sullen daughter of Athena never leaves camp, the one who died with Thalia in her arms. Whether people avoid her because they’re scared of her or because they find her unlovable, Annabeth doesn’t care. She made a promise to herself that when she came to Camp that the only person she would rely on was herself. Daughters of Athena don’t need anything except their cunning and intelligence, and she doesn’t mind that it makes her unpopular. 

_But it does get incredibly lonely sometimes_ , Annabeth thinks as she sits alone on the beach overlooking the Long Island Sound as the rest of the campers laugh and gossip and love each other so freely. 

So it doesn’t surprise her when the Hunters come to camp later that fall, as the trees bleed red and orange and yellow. It doesn’t surprise her when she relates to Phoebe as she describes being promised to a Sicilian man as if family’s only use for her was marriage. It doesn’t surprise her when she kneels before the goddess Artemis and says the sacred words to pledge herself to the Hunt for eternity. What does surprise herself is the forlorn look on Luke’s face as she leaves with the Hunters. 

Annabeth didn’t think that he would be that sad to see her go, but pushes the thoughts of her past life out of her mind. She has a new family now, an eternal sisterhood that will love and support her forever. The bursting fall colors swirl in her vision as Artemis transports them to the islands of Key West, intent on catching some sort of a serpent monster. Annabeth figures she has catch up on some reading about the monsters she’ll be hunting now as a Hunter of Artemis. 

__________________

“Have things changed?” Annabeth asks Zoe as they set up camp in the woods of upstate New York. Above them, the June sky swirls dangerously in shades of grey and black and blue. Annabeth can even smell the quiet earthy scent of rain and the lighting and thunder that will follow. And she knows that this is not normal, that the summer-spring storms are not supposed to be like this. 

Zoe sighs, and put down the tent that she was putting together. 

“Things have changed. Last night, a child of the Big Three was claimed, a son of Poseidon. He’s with Chirion now.” 

Annabeth is stunned. She thought that Thalia was the only child of Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon to be born in generations. And when she died, Annabeth knows that the Olympians were relieved, that this upstart daughter of thunder would not be their undoing. 

They continue building the silver tents as the shape of camp starts to form. Annabeth desperately wants to know more, as is her mentality as a daughter of wisdom. But the Hunters do not embrace questions and strategy, preferring to listen to the animals and ground. She finds it frustrating sometimes. But her desire to know more cannot be quelled, so Annabeth breaks the silence. 

“What’s his name.” 

“Perseus Jackson, I believe,” Zoe responds. 

Annabeth turns this over in her mind, he was named after the hero in the myth who slew Medusa and saved Andromeda. The only one that ever got a happy ending, if she remembers correctly. Zoe resumes her assembly, but this just created a flood of questions as Annabeth continues to pester the older hunter. 

“Have you ever met a child of the sea god before?” 

“Annabeth, the children of Poseidon are like the sea, rough and untamed. That demigod is nothing but trouble. If you see him, turn away.” 

And with a tone of finality, Zoe walks away to direct the other hunters, leaving Annabeth with a half-standing tent and thoughts of this son of the sea god. 

__________________

Annabeth is in New York City, running errands for the other hunters while they stop in the port before heading into the Northern Atlantic on their quest to track the Kraken to its watery lair. She’s alone, which she loves. Here, she’s just a normal thirteen year-old girl in camouflage pants and a silver parka, weaving her way through the crowds in the streets. She’s hoping to make it downtown to sketch the skyscrapers before she has to take the subway back Brooklyn to meet the rest of the hunters. 

As she walks downtown, the crowds start to have more and more suits and briefcases and Annabeth feels underdressed. As Annabeth crosses into Lower Manhattan, in the corner of her eye she sees a mushroom cloud flare up, the explosion shaking the ground that she stands upon. The crowd doesn’t react, continuing with their days as they walk to their next destination.

“Damn monsters,” Annabeth swears to herself as she takes off running towards the explosion, dodging people on the sidewalk as curses are thrown at her. 

As she nears Bryant Park and the library, she sees the source of the explosion: a Laistrygonian Giant. Currently, the giant is throwing flaming soccer balls at a teenage boy, who is dodging and weaving the attacks to the best of his ability. His gleaming bronze sword is held in his hand, but he seems to have figured out the giants’ thick skin can’t be pierced by blade. Rather than trying to land hits on the monster, he’s running around while the park burns down around him. For what reason, Annabeth can’t imagine. 

She rolls her eyes, at the scene that’s so pathetic its almost funny. Demigods have no appreciation for the ability of a long range weapon, especially the boys. She pulls her silver bow out of her backpack, aims for the giant’s neck, and fires. The silver arrow looks like a ray of sunlight as it strikes the giant’s sensitive neck and it collapses like a bag of rocks, body already disintegrating. Annabeth walks toward the body, hoping they’ll be some sort of spoil that she can use to show off her fighting prowess. Instead, she only finds piles of yellow dust that stinks of sulfur. She kicks one half-hardheartedly. 

“I had that!” 

Annabeth whips her head around to see the boy who was fighting the Laistrygonian Giant before she took care of it. He’s dressed in jeans and t-shirt and his arms are covered with scrapes and small burns from his failed attempt to kill the monster. 

She crosses her arms and retorts, “There’s no way you were every gonna kill that Laistrygonian Giant with that sword of yours, you have to hit them in the neck. Not my fault you didn’t think about that. Also, you should be thanking me for saving your life.” Annabeth adds the last bit with her best glare. 

“You’re not my savior because I didn’t need to be saved. I had it under control,” the boy shoots back. 

“Whatever.” Annabeth rolls her eyes and cleans up her bow before she puts it in her backpack. 

So much for sketching the skyscrapers, she only has forty minutes before they’re setting sail to Maine and Annabeth doesn’t want to even want to know what Zoe would do if she was late. She zips her backpack closed, and starts walking away, crafting how she’s going to tell this story of the foolish male demigod to everyone else at dinner tonight. 

“Wait!” The boy shouts and runs after her, “What’s your name?” 

Annabeth stares at him blankly. She’s not about to tell this boy her name just because he asked, _for gods sake she’s a Hunter of Artemis not some silly mortal girl!_

After no response, the boy recalculates his approach and sticks his hand out, “I’m Percy. Son of Poseidon.” 

Annabeth’s interest is piqued. So this is the son of Poseidon that has the whole world in frenzy. The one that has hundreds of immortals watching him, seeing what he’ll do when he holds the fate of the world in his hands. Zoe warned Annabeth about him, that if she was ever to meet Pursues Jackson, she was to turn around and run. But he doesn’t seem harmful, Percy looks like a normal teenage boy. And Annabeth likes normal. Its what she always wanted to be when she was little, when the monsters stalked her for days.

She shakes his hand, “Annabeth. Hunter of Artemis.” 

“What’s that,” Percy asks, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. 

Annabeth laughs at the look on his face, “Don’t worry about it sea spawn. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, there’s only so many places that we can go.” 

“But—,” he starts, clearly having a million questions for her as Annabeth leaves him behind the burning park. 

But Annabeth doesn’t have the time to deal with male demigods with too many questions. She has a boat to catch. But on the subway, she allows herself a small smile. She’d been expecting Percy Jackson to be some cocky demigod with an ego the size of the moon, but he was nice and wanted to get to know her. Sons of Poseidon couldn’t be all that bad, right? 

__________________

  
Annabeth is perched on a tree branch, the Hunters’ blue flag beneath her and seemingly unguarded. The trunk that she’s leaning against impales her side with tiny splinters, but she ignores it. Children of Athena are competitive, and Annabeth is no exception. She wants to win this match of capture-the-flag more than anything and would do anything to accomplish it.

Suddenly, she hears the sounds of cracking branches and she spies a demigod in orange fifty feet away and heading towards the clearing where she and Clarissa sit in towering trees. She locks eyes with Clarissa, puts her finger over her lips, and gestures to the Yankees hat strapped to her utility belt. Clarissa nods and draws her bow, ready to interfere if Annabeth’s plan goes wrong. Annabeth slings her bow over her back and puts on her Yankee cap, then starts the slow and steady climb down the tree. She tries to be as quiet as possible, hoping that the sound of her breath will be masked by the loud demigod approaching the flag. 

As Annabeth reaches the bottom, the demigod has arrived at the edge and is hanging back in the tree-line. He walks around the perimeter, inspecting the ground and trees as he looks for traps. 

_Smart_ , Annabeth thinks to herself. It’s what she would have done, evaluate her surroundings and then make an informed decision. 

The demigod seems satisfied, and he makes his way through the clearing in short tiny hops, missing the trip wires littered around the flag. Annabeth follows him, always one step behind to make a move if anything goes wrong. He’s a couple steps from the flag, and his face splits into a grin, green eyes shining as he reaches forward to the touch the flag— to only be greeted with a blade at his neck. 

“Step away from the flag,” Annabeth threatens, holding her dagger taut against his neck. 

She’s behind him, but her field of vision is complete blocked by her victim’s shaggy black hair. Annabeth takes off her Yankees cap, tossing it to ground as she circles around to face her latest victim, her hand still clasped around a chunk of hair on the back of his head. Annabeth keeps the blade close to the vein, so that her message is clear: make a move and she would slice him without hesitation. 

He looks at her with recognition, “I know you!” 

Annabeth laughs, tossing her blond ponytail behind her head. “As if any Hunter would know a male demigod. And before you say that I knew you when I was mortal, all the people I knew then are dead or way too old.” 

He snaps his fingers as the memory comes back to him. “We met like a year ago in a park in the city? You saved me from that Laistrygonian Giant. I tried to look for you, but you didn’t give me a lot to go off with just a first name.” 

“Why would you look for me,” Annabeth says, rolling her eyes.

Of course the son of Poseidon would be the one brash enough to be flirting with a Hunter of Artemis. Not that she minded being flirted with, Annabeth knew she was pretty and cunning in a beautiful way. But she didn’t need any boys to tell her that. None of the hunters did. 

“I don’t know, you just seemed like someone that I’d want with me in a fight,” Percy trails off, as if he wasn’t completely sure why he looked for Annabeth either. 

He swallows nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the weight of her dagger. Percy breaks out a sarcastic smile, “You know, if you lowered your dagger I bet we would get to know each other better.” 

“Seaweed Brain, you should know better than to flirt with a Hunter of Artemis,” Annabeth shot back, clenching the her fist tighter around his hair.

“Seaweed Brain huh? That’s a new one,” he says, raising his eyebrow sarcastically. 

“Well it fits you, you’re brain seems to be full of kelp and that’s why you seem to make these dumb decisions whenever I’m around. I mean really, did you think that we left the flag completely unguarded?” Now Annabeth arches her eyebrow towards Percy, waiting for some snarky remark that she’s grown to expect from him. 

Instead he blushes and looks away muttering, “I don’t think the reason why I act dumb around you is kelp in my brain.” 

The pair stares at each other without speaking, caught at impasse. Each dares for the other to speak. Annabeth is frozen, they had gone from trading barbs to something else in a split-second. She has no experience with romance, no matter how many books she’s read, and doesn’t know how to respond. Did Percy just confess he had feelings for her, or is it something else? She’s caught off guard, this is the only subject that she knows nothing about. Percy looks just as shocked as she is, as if he surprised himself with his confession. But before one can change the subject and beat the other to some witty dig, Annabeth hears the shouts of victory through the trees. 

Annabeth smiles sweetly, “Thanks for playing,” she tells him, pulling her dagger away from his neck. 

“Good job,” Percy says genuinely, smile lines forming around his eyes. “I mean it.” 

“You too,” Annabeth responds automatically, sliding her dagger back into her belt. 

“Well…” Percy starts,fidgeting with a pen in his hands, “I guess I’ll see you around Annabeth.” 

And he turns around and starts jogging through the woods back to camp, so she yells back at him, “I’ll see you around too!” 

At the sound of her voice, he turned to wave to her, almost hitting a giant oak tree which makes Annabeth laugh. It didn’t matter that he was a boy, but he made her laugh and viewed her as his equal. After all, Percy said he looked for her last year, wanting her by his side in battle. That’s more than any guy she knew did for anyone. 

Clarissa dropped softly from the branches and stood next to Annabeth, “You know you’re playing a dangerous game, right?” 

“I’m not playing any kind of game,” Annabeth protested. But her efforts were unsuccessful, and Clarissa looked unimpressed. 

“I’m not kidding Annabeth, don’t get involved with mortals and don’t even think about getting involved with boys. Especially that one. He’s the child of the Great Prophecy. You don’t want to be around that, trust me.” 

And with that, Clarissa marched off, leaving Annabeth alone in the clearing with a flag and her complicated feelings about Percy Jackson. 

__________________

The Hunters are resting in the Hollywood Hills before they continue east, into the deserts of Southern California. The hot dry wind blows around Annabeth, lifting her blond curls off of her shoulder. Annabeth shades her eyes as she takes in her surroundings, miles of hills covered with scrubby brush. To the south, she sees downtown LA through the Hollywood sign, the buildings glinting under the bright sun. 

“Hey Annabeth!” calls a voice, and Annabeth draws her bow, ready for any potential fights. 

Seconds later, someone comes crashing through the bushes as they trip on a tree root, sprawling at Annabeth’s feet. With black hair, green eyes, and a orange shirt there’s no doubt in Annabeth’s mind who this is: Percy Jackson. 

“What are you doing here?” She inquires, slinging her bow over her back and reaching forward to help Percy get out of the dirt. 

Percy brushes off his shirt and pulls out leaves from his hair until he no longer looks like he lost a fight with a dryad, “I was in the neighborhood?” 

Annabeth gives him a dry look and waits for his real response. 

He sighs, “No, I was doing some sort of quest for Hades.” 

“Ah,” Annabeth responds and gets why Percy is unwilling to divulge more. She wouldn’t want to bring up memories of the Land of Dead either if she could help it. She’s heard stories though, of palaces of bone and the screams of the dammed. Annabeth already has enough nightmares, she doesn’t want to add to the list. 

“Can I sit with you?” he asks. 

Annabeth moves over on the rock she was sitting and gestures to the spot, “Of course, my rock is always available for demigods coming back from traumatic quests. Gods know how many I saw when I was little at Camp.” 

He turns to her, green eyes wide in shock. “You’re a demigod!” 

“Uh yeah,” Annabeth responds blankly, “I was at Camp Half-Blood for three years when I was younger, when campers got sent on quests all the time. I heard that your quest for the lightning bolt was the first one in a while.” 

“Yeah,” Percy agrees, drawing his knees into chest. “After Luke’s quest, the Oracle stopped giving them. I guess she didn’t want to make any more demigod sociopaths who would serve Kronos” he says bitterly, poison on his tongue. 

Annabeth turns her head to face Percy, “You know, he wasn’t always like that. When I was little, he was the most popular guy at camp. Everyone wanted a piece of him.” 

Percy is shocked again, and sits silently as he digests this information. Annabeth doesn’t get why he’s so surprised that there’s this many demigods in the Hunt. Nowadays, the previously mortal Hunters are all from the ancient times, when Artemis would recruit all over the Mediterranean. But all the recruits from the last hundred years are demigods with the exception of of a few. Zoe used to tell her that it was because the modern world is too poisonous to the wild nature of the Hunt. 

He speaks up again, “So if you knew Luke, how old are you? I always thought you were like a thousand years old or something.” He scoffs, “It would explain how you always know what do in any situation, you had all that practice.” 

Annabeth laughs, “Sorry to crush your dreams but we’re the same age. I’m fifteen in mortal years; I swore my oath to Artemis five years ago.”

Percy’s eyes swept over face, noticing her narrow cheeks and post-pubescent body. “You don’t look like a ten-year-old to me,” he noted carefully. 

“No,” Annabeth agreed, “I don’t. After we swear our oath, we still age up to about fifteen or sixteen. It makes it easier to be taken seriously. Less questions are asked about a group of teenager girls than group of middle-scholars.” 

“That sounds about right,” Percy reasons. “So,” he says, turning to her this time, “Why did you choose the Hunt?” 

Annabeth shots back, “I feel like that’s private information.” 

He throws back his head, tipping his chin up. “You’ve held a knife to my throat Annabeth, I feel like we’re ready for the deep secrets phase of our friendship.” 

“We’re friends?” Annabeth ventures this question carefully, hoping Percy doesn’t deny what he just said. 

Instead, he just stares at her with those deep green eyes. “Of course we’re friends,” he states simply, “Why wouldn’t we be?” 

“I don’t know,” Annabeth mutters as she casts her eyes downward, the unraveled thread on the cuff of her jacket suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world. “I guess just, I haven’t had friends in a while. Sure, I have the Hunt and I have Thalia, but that’s different.” 

She stares down, and scuffs one of her boots into the dust. “Camp was hard for me, I was too young and too haughty. Not a lot of people were dying to be friends with me.” 

“I get it,” Percy says slowly. “It’s hard to make friends, especially as a demigod. I didn’t really have friends until I came to Camp but now I have Grover and the Stolls and Beckendorf and…” he trails off, smiling at Annabeth, “Even you.” 

The tension is palpable between them, but Annabeth takes those feelings and shoves them into the box inside her head, with her memories of her father and Luke. She cannot afford to catch feelings for him. 

“Well,” she says, jumping off of her bolder and double-checking her dagger at her belt, “I gotta go. I have to do… hunter stuff.” 

Percy jumps off of suddenly, and readies himself for departure as well, the tension between the two of them broken like Waterford crystal on hardwood floors. After they say their goodbyes, Annabeth scolds herself as she treks back to camp. It’s like what Zoe told her all those years ago, that sons of Poseidon are nothing but trouble. Percy Jackson isn’t the exception as she had thought, but he feels like home in all the ways that the Hunters never did. And that’s what makes him so dangerous, that he makes her feel emotions she’s never felt before. Annabeth has never fallen in love, but she guesses that it would feel like this. 

__________________

  
“Look out!” Percy shouts as he parries to his left, blocking the dracaenae's spear, which drips with a mysterious green liquid Annabeth thinks is definitely poison. 

Annabeth falls to ground, her lungs feeling the impact as all of the air is knocked out of her. But thr pain is worth it as the spear swings wide, making a whooshing sound where Annabeth was just a second before. She rolls over, and draws her dagger as a last resort. Her bow was knocked out of her hands and snapped in half, forcing her to fight the dracaenae hand-to-hand with Percy. 

Annabeth runs up behind the dracaenae, intending to stab her in the back, but the monster turns around at the last second as if she sensed to slight changes in the air. She swings out with her spear and Annabeth throws herself to the side again to avoid the posion. As she picks herself up, Percy is trying to keep the dracaenae distracted, taunting her as he hops from box to box in the massive warehouse. He’s blabbing on about hair care and makeup and snakes and it seems to be working, because the dracaenae is getting sloppier every moment in her anger. Percy’s able to finally have the upper hand, forcing her to go on the defensive. 

Annabeth creeps up behind the pair, waiting for a moment to slip in and stab the monster into piles of dust. She’s barely ten feet behind them when Percy slips, crashing to the floor in a heap. The dracaenae smiles and bares her fangs, moving in for the kill. 

Annabeth doesn’t even flinch, but throws her dagger to her target. A beat later, it hits the dracaenae in the back and she dissolves into a poof of yellow dust. Percy’s so covered in it he looks like a Big Bird impersonator. 

“Thanks,” he says soberly. Annabeth knows that he’s aware how close to death he was. It’s part of being a demigod, walking the fine line between life and death, but it doesn’t make in easier. She takes small mercies in the fact that she doesn’t have to fear age as an indicator of death, only battle. 

Annabeth reaches his hand out to pull him up from the piles of dust. “It’s no problem,” she says, “I’m sure you would have done the same.” 

The pair of them begin taking inventory, cataloging injuries and cleaning weapons. Annabeth uses her t-shirt to wipe off the blood and guts from her dagger and recovered the broken pieces of her bow. 

“So,” Percy begins, “We should probably stop meeting like this.” 

“We should,” she agrees. 

But none of them make a move, afraid to leave. Annabeth has grown to care for Percy over the years; she prays to Poseidon every night to keep his son safe. She hopes that her mother doesn’t know about her daughters prayers to her godly enemy but really she doesn’t care. The extent of Athena’s communication of her is the owl that appeared over her head when she was seven. Nothing else. 

So they sit and talk of their pasts, where they came from. Annabeth doesn’t dare mention the future, for that would mean mentioning the prophecy. She heard the lines years ago, of an oath to keep until a final breath. Annabeth knows what that means, that someone will die in the completion of the prophecy. She’s terrified of that happening to Percy, the oldest child of the Big Three. So instead, she tells him stories about the various monsters she’s hunted and he tells him about his mom. It’s a prefect moment, of two friends sharing history. But Annabeth sees the way Percy looks at her, the way his green eyes linger. She knows that he wants to be more then friends with her, and she wants the same. But she can’t, bound by rules and myths much older than the pair of them. 

Her heart beats quicker when around Percy, and Annabeth doesn’t even realize that she was looking forward to him until she sees him. In Los Angeles, all she felt was peace and internal quiet. Not strife, not fear, as the hunters warned her about men. And now, sitting as he tells her stories of Camp Half Blood, Annabeth realizes that every part of Percy Jackson she’s starting to care for, maybe even love. The way he smiles at her, as if she’s the only thing in the world. His laugh, his smirk, his deep green eyes.

It doesn’t matter how much seeing him makes her heart hurt, but she swore an oath when she was young to the Hunt. He can smile at her all he wants, but Annabeth would never break a vow with an Olympian. Athena’s children are not foolish, and she is no different. 

“We should leave,” she interrupts him. “I need to get back to camp, and you need to get back to Long Island before dark.” 

“Uh yeah, of course,” Percy responds, his green eyes still following her every move. Those damn eyes, they swallowed her as ruthlessly as the sea does to those that disobey it. She has to end this before it starts, for both of their sakes. 

“Percy, I know we’re friends, but we should stop meeting like this,” Annabeth says slowly. It breaks her heart to separate from Percy, her friend. But, the Fates are taunting her by throwing Percy Jackson in her path and she refuses to fall for this trap. 

“Ok,” he says hesitantly. “But at least let me give you my email address in case anything happens.” 

Annabeth takes the scrap of paper, telling herself that she needs to separate herself from him. She leaves that day intending to keep her vows, to not follow her feelings for him. But she keeps thinking of him, the way he makes her feel complete and longing for more all at once. Her resolve only lasts three weeks. 

  
__________________

  
Technology is dangerous for demigods, the electronic signals attracting monsters to the presence of demigods. The modern and mythic worlds do not mix, and Annabeth knows of demigods that died because of it. But she ignores that fear, and visits internet cafes in every town she can manage to check her email. 

She and Percy have been talking for almost nine months now, since that September day in the warehouse. But they don’t talk about how Luke’s army is coming closer and closer to Manhattan, the monsters spotted all over the Eastern Seaboard. Instead, he tells her about the events in the mortal world that passed her by, movies and celebrities and his favorite athletes. Annabeth tells him about architecture, the buildings she seen on her travels in North America. She sends pictures sometimes, of her in front of the Seattle Needle and the Dallas Skyline. Percy said he print them out to put on his wall, where he has a collection of pictures of him and his friends. Annabeth knows she should have been flattered, but her heart just clenches. 

Annabeth knows that she and Percy are playing a dangerous game, one that many mortals and demigods have lost before. Annabeth sees the raised eyebrows of the hunters, the scoff Thalia gives her when Annabeth leaves camp to find an internet connection, yet again. Hunters pledge to be without the love of another for as long as they live, but Annabeth is breaking that oath with every second she breaths. But with Percy, she pretends that there isn’t romantic subtext to what they’re doing, that they’re friends. It’s the hardest thing she’s ever done, but Annabeth doesn’t have any regrets, especially when she remembers how he makes her feel. She’d do anything to feel that way all the time. Well, anything but leaving the Hunt. 

__________________

The Hunters are in Connecticut for the weekend, tracking the monsters that all seem to be drawn to Manhattan. Annabeth knows why, she sees the reports of Princess Andromeda in Baltimore and Boston and the demigods either disappearing or turning up dead. Percy turns sixteen in three months and Luke and Kronos are preparing for war. The mood around the Hunters’ campsite is tense, waiting for the inevitable battle and the hunters that will fall to war’s cruel actions. Last week in Vermont, she got an email from Percy to meet her; so she snuck away for the afternoon to see him in New Haven. They’re meeting halfway, a proper allegory for their relationship. 

At the train station, she greets him by a coffee shop and they walk into town to talk. About what, Annabeth doesn’t know. But what she does know is that if Percy asks her to be anywhere, anytime she will find a way to make it to him. They buy sandwiches as a dingy mom-and-pop deli and are sitting outside in the spring sunshine. 

“How’s it going at camp,” Annabeth pries as she unwraps her turkey sandwich. 

“It’s going,” Percy says as he plays with the wrapper of his own lunch. Annabeth studies him carefully, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and his messy hair. He looks like he hasn’t gotten sleep in months. “Its just stressful. Its May now, I turn sixteen in three months. And that’s when the prophecy that will tell me what do or whatever.” 

_Interesting, he doesn’t know the lines of the Great Prophecy,_ Annabeth notes.

She supposes that Chirion doesn’t want Percy to know his own future before it comes to fruition. The Fates will ensure that all will happen as it should, and respond with cruelty to those who try to trick them. Annabeth and the Hunters learned that lesson with Zoe and Bianca. 

“I suppose you’re worried about turning sixteen, right,” Annabeth prods, waiting for his response. 

“Yeah,” Percy says. “I’m supposed to be the Chosen One, the one that will beat Kronos and Luke, but I don’t feel like a hero. In the big picture of every single quest, I’ve returned home without answers to defeat them. And no one tell me why I’m the one that has to do it, what I’ll have to sacrifice to win. I’ve lost so much to the gods and they expect me to follow their plan blindly!” As he talks he gets louder and louder until he’s shouting and his cheeks are red with anger. 

“Maybe what the the prophecy predicted is so terrible they want to protect you from it,” Annabeth adds, trying to comfort Percy. 

She knows the lines by heart since she’d snuck into the attic when she was nine and demanded the Oracle tell Annabeth her future. A cursed blade, a world in endless sleep, a final breath, they all swirl in her mind. Once, she questioned why the Great Prophecy was told to her. But now with her connection to Percy, Annabeth understands why. 

“But what if I don’t want to be protected. Nothing is worse than the sacrifices that I’ve imagined having to give up in order to beat Kronos.” 

Percy looks at her with so much sorrow, her heart wants to shatter. She’s never seen someone look that broken; its a visage she never wants to see for the rest of her immortal life. Percy is the most loyal person she’s ever known, the idea of his friends and family dying is his living nightmare. He would rather die himself than anyone else be killed of his actions. Annabeth admires his tenacity, but treads carefully. Zoe’s words about sons of the sea god echo in her head, even as Annabeth gives Percy another piece of her heart every single day. 

“Death isn’t something to fear,” she says comfortingly, as she leans up against him. Her blonde curls mix with his black strands and she can smell Percy, his sweat and detergent and a sweet floral scene that reminds Annabeth of magic. 

“I’m not afraid of dying.” Percy looks down at her, and she holds his gaze, challenging him. “It’s the idea of leaving behind the people that I love that hurts me the most. My friends. My mom. You.” 

Annabeth purposely doesn’t react, not daring to give the gods a reason to smite her down right then. They’ve shown love in a thousand ways, in smiles and hugs and pecks on the cheek but this is the first love confession from any of them. Annabeth’s wildest dreams and most vivid nightmares come to life in this moment. She loves Percy, Percy loves her, and yet they cannot be together. 

“You know I can’t respond to that,” Annabeth says sadly. 

“I know,” He says, brushing a blond curl behind her ear, his hand lingering on her face. 

It’s a tragic love story and a puzzle all in one, of two people that love each other and cannot be with each other in the way they desire. 

  
__________________

  
Her and Percy stand back-to-back, facing Kronos’ army by themselves. Annabeth cuts and slash and stabs and shoots arrow after arrow, but no dent is made in the invading forces. Wave after wave of demigods and monsters arrive at an unrelenting pace, replacing the fallen. She’s in the middle of a battle, the one place where her mortality is most fragile, and yet Annabeth feels most alive in this moment with Percy. 

But as she takes care of a a demigod turncoat, Annabeth sees the boy with an eyepatch and a dagger. He’s readying to stab Percy in the back, but something shifts inside of Annabeth and she lunges towards Percy, intent on protecting him with her life. It’s what she ends up doing as the blade enters her torso and she screams out in pain. Her hands are covered in blood and she can barely keep awake as Kronos and Percy duel on the bridge that collapses around them.

She’s barely conscious as some Apollo kids move her back to the Plaza hotel. When she was younger, she used to love sketching its ivory towers. Times have changed now. She’s laid on some fancy chaise-lounge, healers swarming around the gaping wound in her chest. The skin around it is turning grey, and Annabeth knows poison when she sees it. If she dies now, so be it. She’s lived a life without consequences with Thalia and Luke and the Hunters and Percy. Especially with Percy, with their glances and unsaid words they tell each other through touch and lingering stares. 

Percy finally shows up to her room, but Annabeth has no idea how long its been since the battle the bridge. Time goes different when you’re dying, she’s learning. Things go fast and slow all at once. Her brings up a chair next to her and holds her hand, not daring to to say the words Annabeth knows he wants to say. That he loves her, that he would give up everything for her, even hold the weight of the world on his shoulders. Annabeth knows that she should be ashamed because she feels the exact same way. 

“I kissed another girl.” Percy speaks to her slowly, deliberately not meeting her eyes, “Rachel, she helped me last summer when we went through the Labyrinth."

Annabeth’s heart falls, but she knows that it is for the best. They may love each other as much as Orpheus loved Eurydice, but they cannot defy the words of the Olympians. Its better for both of them to move on. Percy with this mortal girl and her with the Hunt. 

‘It’s better this way. With us… we can’t Percy.” 

He nods sadly, as if he doesn’t want to give up the flame in his heart that burns for; but he knows that it must be extinguished. They’ve lived in their own world the last two years, but what happens when Percy grows old and Annabeth stays fresh-faced and young forever? Better to endure heartbreak now than in the future. 

Percy’s called away, and Annabeth is left in the Plaza Hotel, heartbroken by the boy who she never even got to express her love for. 

__________________

Annabeth gives her dagger, the cursed blade of the prophecy, to Luke and watches as he plunges it into the one piece of skin that’s still mortal, dying human with piercing blue eyes. She stays with his body in the destroyed throne room, rubble surrounding the three demigods.

 _It had always been the three of them_ she mused, _it was their three choices that brought them to this result_. Annabeth to let go of her knife, Percy to give it to Luke, and Luke to end his life and Kronos’ reign. It all came together in the end as the Oracle predicted: Percy’s birthday, New York in slumber, and Luke’s choice. Annabeth doesn’t know how long she stays with Percy, their intertwined hands saying all there is too be said between them. They sit together, shocked to silence by what they have witnessed. 

The Olympians eventually come, the sounds of their war-cries and clanking armor echoing against the space as the charge in, expecting a fight. But they find two teenagers holding each other, both knowing the weight of the other’s sadness. Annabeth doesn’t protest as she’s led away from Luke’s body to a healing tent set up in a garden of olive trees. Healers and demigods and minor gods try to talk to her; try to find out what happened in the throne room, but Annabeth stays silent. She doesn’t want to talk about she killed the only family she ever knew. The last thing she sees is Apollo leaning over her and suddenly she’s sent into dreamless sleep. 

  
From her place of darkness, Annabeth blinks her eyes open and is shoved into her silver camouflage before being sent on her way to the Throne Room. 

“The gods want to talk to the heroes,” they healers say urgently, and push her out of the healing tent. 

She picks her way up the hill, climbing over boulders and weaving her way amongst the rubble that covers the road preparing herself for what’s about to occur. Annabeth knows she only there as a formality, Hunters of Artemis were not seen as heroes in the myths and today will be no different. She makes her way into the throne room, with the rubble cleared and the twelve thrones standing tall. Annabeth’s sure some god flicked their fingers like it was no trouble at all and and everything went back to normal. That’s the things about gods, they feel like they can fix everything, make everything go back to the way that it was when the world really shouldn’t be regressing. Time moves forward, why shouldn't everything else?

Annabeth supposes that she should feel intimidated by the gods in their full form, standing twenty-feet tall in their giant thrones, passing judgements and thoughts behind their immortal eyes. But she refuses to bend, standing straight and bowing only to Artemis, her patron. She smiles as Grover, the satyr that brought her to camp all those years ago, is named a Lord of the Wild and put in charge of demigod recruiting efforts. Someone deserves to have a happy ending. 

Thalia is named the leader of the Hunt, an honor that Annabeth expected for her. Thalia thrived in the Hunters in the way that Annabeth could only dream about. In the past, that was the title that Annabeth coveted, to be appointed by the goddess herself. She supposes that with hubris as her fatal flaw, she’s meant to be jealous and ooze anger that others have succeeded where she has not. But Annabeth is no longer has the time for petty thoughts as one who came to age in era of prophecies and wars. She only feels joy for her friend, her sister, her fellow hunter. The silver circlet appears above Thalia’s head as each Olympian promises to send her young women in need of protection. The Hunt will live on with Thalia, as it has for two millennia and will for two more.

“Annabeth Chase,” Artemis calls, smiling slightly at her. 

Annabeth walks forward, to Zeus at the center at the gods’ pantheon. She’s slightly nervous, her heartbeat beating throughout her body. But she keeps her face neutral, with a mask of respect and deference to the gods. She’s not like Percy, with his light smile and cocky attitude when he taunts the gods. Yet another reason why her and Percy wouldn’t work, they’re just too different. 

“To thank Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Athena and Hunter of Artemis, for her heroic actions during the Battle of the New York and her role in the stand against the Lord of Time, we would like you to redesign Mount Olympus.” 

She’s shocked to silence and her voice wavers as she speaks, “You mean the throne room?” 

“No I mean the whole mountain itself,” Zeus gestures to the rest of the acropolis, destroyed to pieces, “As you can see, Kronos competed his goal of destroying Olympus. He just didn’t count on it being rebuilt.” 

Her, rebuilding Olympus? Annabeth’s passion has always been architecture but there had been no time to purse it as a Hunter beyond the museums and bookstores she would drag girls to. She wants it so bad, to build something that could last a thousand years. Annabeth feels her pride straining within her, begging for her to say yes and be known as the architect of Olympus in the legends. She notes quietly to herself that if she was in New York rebuilding Olympus, she could see Percy beyond their run-ins on quests and their sporadic emails. But hubris is a childish thing and Annabeth is no longer a child, but an honored Hunter of the goddess Artemis. She swore that her place would be with the Hunt until her death, and she will not turn her back on them. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t accept. My place is with the Hunt and redesigning Olympus would break the sacred vow I made.” Annabeth paused and then added, “Lord Zeus.” 

Artemis stands, shrinking into her human form as she walks to Annabeth. Her auburn hair gleams in the torchlight and her expression solemn. The two of them could be sisters, with their stormy grey eyes. 

“Annabeth Chase, you have served the Hunt faithfully for six years. But I wish not to trap a Hunter in the cursed gift that immorality offers, especially when one’s ambitions and heart lie elsewhere. My offer to leave the Hunt peacefully will not come again.” 

She understands what Artemis is telling her, that she knows that Annabeth’s heart hasn’t been in the Hunt for years. That the buildings of the world and certain son of Poseidon have captured her. The offer to redesign Olympus is a way for her to be free of the Hunt without strife. And Annabeth herself knows that she must accept, to follow the path that Fate has sent her on. 

“Then I must accept the wishes of my Lady,” she says as she bows to her Patron for the last time. 

“Annabeth Chase, you have served faithfully. I, the goddess Artemis, set you free from your duties to the Hunt.” 

As she steps back into the group with Grover and Thalia, Annabeth doesn’t feel different but know that everything is changed. That she won’t stop growing at fifteen. That she’s free to love and to hope for more beyond the Hunt. She gives Thalia a reassuring smile; they’ll talk later about that this means for them. 

Then Percy is called forward and offered immortality and Annabeth’s heart freezes in her chest and this gnawing pit her stomach is the only thing she feels. She doesn’t think of herself as a person who would drop everything for a boy, but part of the reason she just left the Hunt was for Percy and to explore the feelings she’d had about him for years. They’ll be in the same position again: one immortal and one mortal. 

Of fucking course this would happen to her. She will be doomed again with Percy, but now she would whither away while Percy stayed sixteen forever. 

“—But I’ll have to turn down your offer of immorality, Lord Zeus. I’m only sixteen and there’s still a lot of things in life I’d like to do.” 

He turns and smiles to his group of friends, and Annabeth feels like a fool and happy all at once. She was naive for thinking that Percy would easily turn his back on… whatever they were. Annabeth has known Percy for years, his loyalty and his temper and his sea-green eyes. She’s known all the parts of him as well as the myths that kept her alive in the Hunt. But now they have time, a whole life to know every part of one another in whispers and shouts and gentle touches. 

As they walk down the mountain for the festivities, Percy’s hand presses a ghost of a touch to Annabeth’s fingers. She’s stunned, jerking away in habit. But now she’s free to give her heart to the boy she’s been in love with for years and presses her hand into his without fear of retribution. 

__________________

  
She’s sitting in an elaborate garden on the edge of Mount Olympus, overlooking the towering skyscrapers of Midtown Manhattan.

“Is there space for one more?” Percy is standing at the entrance of this small garden, holding a plate of food. He doesn’t have any scratches on him, thanks to the Curse of Achilles, but his clothing is still torn and dirty from the Battle of New York. 

“Always for you,” Annabeth responds, and scooches over on the ledge as Percy sits next to her, both of their feet dangling over the dark sky. 

They sit in silence, observing the sight of the metropolis from the sky. They’re up too high to hear any of the sounds of the city, and it unnerves Annabeth. After Hypnos, she doesn’t want to hear the sounds of a silent city ever again. But here she’ll make an exception, in this secluded garden with Percy by her side. 

Percy speaks up, “So… mortal now huh?” 

“Yep,” Annabeth responds, popping the p sound. “I’m going to move back to Camp Half Blood tomorrow. It’s been a while since I’ve been there too, you’ll have to show me around.” 

“Yeah,” Percy responds, looking pained. 

Annabeth’s confidence over them feeling the same way about each other vanishes. After all, Percy told her he’d kissed Rachel and not even hours later saved her very dramatically on the back of his pegasus. She begins to nervously talk about her new mortal life: “I’m going to have to go shopping now, it’s been six years since I owned anything but silver camo and all of my stuff from when I was ten isn’t going to fit anymore. I think I’m going to reach out to my dad now too, I haven't talked to him since I was twelve when he sent his college ring to me—“ 

Percy interrupts, “Did you do it for me?” 

She looks at him quizzically, cocking her head to the left. “Do what?” 

He gestures at the garden they’re sitting in. “Giving up being a Hunter of Artemis. Being the head architect of Olympus. Becoming mortal again.” 

Annabeth inhales sharply and responds with venom, indignant that he would imply that she was some foolish girl. 

“I’ll have you know that I’ve wanted to be an architect since I was six years old and this is the dream of a lifetime for me. And Artemis knows that I would never been able to be a Hunter and architect so she let me leave. She knew what was best for me and let me choose. Not many people get that choice to follow Fate.” 

Percy has a guilty look on his face, and he runs his hands through his ink-black hair. He exhales out, “Well I did for you. Gave up immortality.” 

“You what?” Annabeth screeches at him, and starts to hit him, “You fool! I can’t believe you did that for me!” 

“Ow, Ow, Ow,” He yells, and clasps her wrists in his right fist as his dark green eyes look directly into Annabeth’s. “I know it was dumb and selfish but its how I feel. I don’t want to live any life with you not in it, immortal or mortal.” 

“I’m not calling you selfish or romantic,” Annabeth says softly, “Because I did the exact same thing today.” 

Percy startles, and he drops her wrists as Annabeth continues talking, “We’ve known each other for years, and I’m always loved you but its been different for ages now. But I had to push it down, I didn’t want to turn my back on the Hunt. Artemis offered me an easy way out of the Hunt with a way to listen to my heart. And all my heart is telling me is how I feel about you.” 

Percy reaches out with his hand, gently trailing up her jawline, “I’ve loved you since the first day we meet and you called me dumb, I’ve loved you since you emailed me even thought we both knew how dangerous is, I’ve loved you since you took a knife for me knowing I would have died without you. I’ve loved every part of you for you years Annabeth Chase, and I’ll love you as long as this mortal life allows me.” 

He draws her into a romantic kiss, his fingers tangled in her blond curls and Annabeth finally leans into Percy, meeting his mouth with hers. She could stay here forever with Percy, the floral smells of the garden, and the twinkling lights beneath her feet. Privately, Annabeth thinks that this possibility of a mortal life with Percy is better than any immortal life without him. The two lovers stay as long as they can, surrounded by the stars of the mythic and the mortal world. 

  
_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> title from invisible string by taylor swift, but the lakes from folklore really sets the mood of this piece. 
> 
> some notes: Thalia isn't the leader of the Hunt in this universe, and honestly she probably wouldn't get it when she pledged on the eve of her sixteenth birthday. Annabeth takes the role of Thalia at the battle in the throne room, but obviously fate planned for her to be there. 
> 
> let me know what you think!


End file.
